


Heartbeat

by miceenscene



Series: Shakarian - A Descent into Madness [3]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Dreams and Reality, F/M, blood mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 16:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17287589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miceenscene/pseuds/miceenscene
Summary: He took a deep breath and slipped his fingers beneath her chin, pressing against the smooth skin of her neck. Her pulse thrummed through his fingers. Slow and steady and real.





	Heartbeat

     The first time was an accident.

     “Look out!” Garrus’ words rang out a moment too late as Shepard was hit with a stray round and knocked off her feet. 

     It had been a tough afternoon on the frozen surface of Trategos. The Blood Pack were putting up a surprisingly decent defense, draining the Normandy squad of most of their supplies. The mercs were still losing, but not without a fight. So much of a fight that when Shepard was thrown backwards into the snow in a spray of crimson, both Garrus and Ashley leapt out of cover.

     They took out the remaining few mercenaries as they rushed to their commander. Behind the large crate, they found Shepard gasping for air as the snow around her neck started to melt under the pooling blood.

     “Shit. Do you have anymore medigel?” Ashley knelt down by her head and examined the wound.

     “No, I’m out.” Garrus tried to get a better look at the damage. Nothing appeared to be lodged in Shepard’s neck. But a graze that deep could be lethal under their current circumstances. Humans bled so much.

     “Shit,” Ashley repeated. “Okay, here.” Ashley grabbed Garrus’s hand and pressed it against Shepard’s neck. Her skin was warm and slippery. “Keep pressure on that, I’m calling Joker.”

     Ashley jogged a few steps away and started yelling harshly into her omnitool. Garrus focused on Shepard, trying not to notice the strong coppery scent in the air.

     “Is this enough pressure?” He asked her. She started to shake her head but hissed from the pain. So she covered his hand with hers and pressed harder against her neck even though she winced. “Alright, alright. This isn’t that bad, really. No need to worry. If we had medigel you could easily walk back to the Normandy,” he said, forcing himself to keep calm. 

     “Of course,” She grunted. “We’ve been…” She had to stop and take a breath. “In worse scrapes… than this.” 

     “Yes, exactly. And besides it’s going to take more than just some random Blood Pack to take down you, right?” 

     A slight smile touched the corners of Shepard’s mouth. “It’d take… a dozen assassins.”

     “Five whole squads of Asari commandos.”

     “And a fleet… of Thresher Maws…” Her eyes started to drift close.

     “No, no, Commander. Stay with me, stay awake, okay?” But she didn’t reply. He panicked for a moment, looking around for options, ways to wake her back up. He grimaced and pressed a little harder on her neck. Her eyes flew open and she cried out. 

     “Fucking shit, Garrus!” She glared at him. “I’m already bleeding out, you don’t have to finish the job!” But her eyes stayed open and she worked on breathing through the pain.

     “Sorry,” he mumbled but maintained pressure.

     He could feel her pulse through his fingers. It was unmistakably slowing. A chill ran through him and he met her gaze. Her eyes were starting to unfocus again.

     “Garrus… I…” Shepard started.

     “No.” Garrus cut her off. “Not today. Ashley! How long till Joker’s here?” He barked.

     “Normandy inbound now.”

     “Stay with me, Shepard. You’re going to get through this.”

 

     The second time he blamed extenuating circumstances.

     Strangely enough, staying awake for over 9 days straight and running on stims, adrenaline, and the increasing likelihood of one’s own demise did odd things to a Turian’s perception. Well, all of that plus a rocket to the face.

     So when he woke up in a medbay that was eerily similar to the SR1’s, Garrus wasn’t entirely convinced that what he was seeing was real. The edges of his vision felt cloudy and out of focus. Little glowing particles occasionally swirled across his field of view. This hallucination’s Dr. Chakwas still put up a fight when he walked out. How very clever. 

     And even better, his brain had decided to create a Shepard too. He was sure that she had something witty to say but he couldn’t quite keep up with the conversation. Though his mouth kept on going without any guidance whatsoever. He would probably worry about that later.

     The Shepard set him up in the main battery and left him alone for a few hours. And dream or no dream, if there was work to be done, he’d do it.

     As he worked on familiarizing himself with the schematics, the fog began to slowly lift. He looked about the small room. This place didn’t seem familiar… maybe this wasn’t actually an hallucination. Maybe his brain was just superimposing memories on top of reality. After all, Shepard couldn’t really be here. She was dead, wasn’t she?

     Almost as if on cue, the door behind him opened and in walked a Shepard. The Shepard? She smiled at him and said a few things that he couldn’t process. Her voice sounded like it was filtering through water. She frowned at him.

     “Garrus?” His brain finally processed that quick enough. “When was the last time you slept?”

     He took a moment to remember. And another moment. Round about the eighth moment, she chuckled a little. 

     “You should sleep. The guns will still be here tomorrow.” 

     She turned to go and his brain caught up to itself all at once. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, half expecting his hand to pass through her like smoke. But she was solid. He stared down at their hands, finally feeling the last of the fog creep away.

     “You’re real?” He breathed. She nodded and he tightened his grip, his fingers pressing against the inside of her wrist. He felt her pulse, as strong and steady as a drum beat. “You’re real.” 

     “Unfortunately,” Shepard quipped with a smile. He stared at her, the overwhelming effects of this new reality still settling in his mind. Her smile dimmed. “Yes. This is real.” He nodded slowly. “Go, get some sleep,” she ordered gently.

     He nodded again. “I’m...glad it is. Real.” 

     “Me too,” she replied. He let go of her wrist to turn and shakily head for the cot in the corner.

 

     The third time, he had no excuse.

     This had to be a dream. A very very good dream, but a dream nonetheless. There really was no other explanation for why Commander Shepard, hero of Skyllian Blitz, first human Spectre, savior of the Council, was asleep in his arms.

     Here they were on the eve of their very likely end and she had chosen to spend it with him, the failed detective/vigilante/Turian. It didn’t make much logical sense. It didn’t make any sense at all by his count. But damn if he wasn’t grateful that this was how the chips had fallen.

     He should have probably been asleep himself. The fate of the galaxy depended on their success. But if he was going to die tomorrow, he wanted to spend his last night marveling at his blessings. He could sleep later, right now Shepard’s face was meer inches from his. He doubted he’d ever get a chance to admire her like this again and he certainly wasn’t going to waste it.

     Sleep relaxed her face, revealing a softness that he’d never seen before. The gentle slopes of her freckled cheeks were highlighted with the blue glow from the fish tanks. Her chest rose and fell with each breath. Here, together in her bed, he realized how small she was, even for a human and especially compared to him. Yet she had the strength to hold the galaxy together.

     He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face and admiring how the silken strands slipped through his fingers. He froze when she stirred slightly. He’d pushed it too far, woken her up. But she let out a deep breath and threw a leg over his waist, snuggling closer.

     He felt his heart tighten in his chest and a warm smile spread across his face.

     He had done the whole ‘blowing off steam’ routine before. And this was anything but, he quietly admitted to himself. At least it was for him. He looked down at her sleeping face. It was as inscrutable as ever.

     Not that either of them had time for anything more than blowing off steam. In an odd way he had the Reapers to thank for bringing them together in the first place. Now if only they would leave them alone. He idly wished for another world, one where they had time for something more. He didn’t know much about Romance, other than the few vids Tali & Kasumi had forced the crew to watch together. But he would be happy to learn for Shepard. 

     Spirits. He was a fool.

     Gingerly, he reached a finger out and traced it over her forehead. Down the slope of her nose and across the curve of her lips to her chin. Her profile was so foreign, so alien, but he found it beautiful it all the same. 

     He took a deep breath and slipped his fingers beneath her chin, pressing against the smooth skin of her neck. Her pulse thrummed through his fingers. Slow and steady and real.

     This was no dream. Garrus Vakarian was simply the luckiest Turian alive.

     And he was going to fight to keep it that way. 


End file.
